A Bohemian Evening
by PandaFire McMango
Summary: The Bohemians all hang out at the loft, where fun little mischief insues...Angel throws things, Mark falls off a chair, Mimi kicks a sofa, Roger runs away from Collins, and of course theres some making out and slow dancing. YAY! canon pairings...oneshot.


Disclamer: I do not own Rent. Jonathon Larson does, bless his completely brilliant, wonderful soul. man, that guy was cool. rip.

Mark shifted in his seat and sighed. His camera was malfunctioning, and somehow everyone's skin tone was ending up green. As he fiddled with wires and lenses, he glanced around the loft. Mimi and Roger were happily discussing the pros and cons of Diet Pepsi vs. Diet Coke vs. their less healthy but more sugary twins, Coke and Pepsi. Angel and Collins were lying on the couch, making out. Maureen and Joanne were coming up with new ideas for a protest, and their argument was getting louder.

"Maureen, I will tolerate mooing, I will tolerate "new-age break dancing", I will even deal with a pole dance. But I will NOT let you do a strip-tease!"

"Aw, Pookie, c'mon, why should only you get to see all the fun? Don't you want the poor sad masses to see what you—OW!" Joanne dodged Maureen's flailing arm, but her face was still a mask of anger, horror, and even amusement.

"Joanne, NO PINCHING!" Mark snorted and went back to fiddling with his camera. Ah, Maureen. Only one like her.

"Hey, everyone, c'mere a minute, I need some _real _advice about this." Maureen glared at Joanne, and when no one took any notice of her request, whined, "_People_, please, I'm dyin' here!" Heaving a sigh, Mark carefully put his camera down and got up. He sat cross-legged next to Maureen and said, "What?" Immediately, she whipped out a list and waved it in his face. Mark caught sight of the words "flaming circle" and "raw meat" before Maureen pulled it back and started reading aloud.

"Ok, I was thinking of doing this really cool thing with the teddy bear and the rabbit trap, and then coming on in the really cool outfit-Mimi, get over here and bring Angel , I need your opinions-and then throwing this—" Mark's eyes glazed over as her words began to exceed the highway speed limit.

Mimi, hearing Maureen's summons, sighed and got up from the table she and Roger had been sitting on. As she passed the couch, she touched Angel's shoulder. Angel ignored her. Mimi paused, and then shook the drag queen. Angel grunted and buried her head in Collins's neck. Sighing, Mimi backed up, kicked the sofa with the strength only an S&M dancer could possess, and shouted, "FIRE!"

Everyone in the loft jumped a foot in the air. Angel and Collins sprang apart, eyes wild. Angel's head whipped back and forth, searching for an invisible inferno.

"Wha—Mimi!" Angel glared at her best friend, who only shrugged and, barely suppressing a smile, grabbed Angel's forearm and dragged her over to Maureen. Collins humphed and crossed his arms, shooting a murderous look first at Roger, whose shoulders were shaking with silent laughter, and then at Mark, who was taking no pains to hide his amusement, roaring with mirth. He yelped, however, when Angel kicked him as she sat down beside him. Stifling her own smile, Maureen began to throw fashion ideas and concepts at Mimi and Angel, who considered them seriously before answering.

Mark, no longer needed, got up and moved over to Roger, who was picking out a few stray cords of his guitar. He whispered something in Roger's ear, and Roger nodded enthusiastically. He softly put down his guitar and slid off the metal table. Making as little noise as possible, the two men sneaked up behind the sofa, where Collins was curiously observing the giggles and squeals coming from the huddle of women across the room. Well, three women and one semi-woman, but anyway. Closer and closer they crept, until they were right behind the back of Collins's head.

Mark raised three fingers and Roger nodded. Three. Mark put down one finger. Two. Another finger. One. They leaned in and…

"COLLINS AND ANGEL, SITTIN' IN A TREE, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Collins spasmed and let out a strangled "Aaaargh!" Roger and Mark were already halfway across the room by the time Collins was standing, and they were laughing so hard Roger had to lean on Mark to keep from falling. Collins bared his teeth and launched himself at them, even he laughing. They staggered away from each other and ran, still clutching their aching sides.

Angel, Maureen, Mimi, and Joanne screamed with laughter as they watched Collins chase Mark and Roger around and around the loft. Roger fled to the huddled group and pulled Mimi up, using her as a shield. Mimi pretended to try to wriggle free, but you could tell she was happy about Roger holding her. Collins paused, breathless.

"C'mon, Collins, you wouldn't kill a girl just to get at me, would you?" Roger teased. Collins charged forward, but instead of ducking around Mimi he wrapped an arm around her waist and picked her up, hoisting her over his shoulder. She screamed, and Roger fled. Collins chased Roger to the couch, where Roger collapsed, breathless.

"Don't hurt me, please mister…" he panted around the laughter that was still pouring from his mouth. Instead, Collins dumped Mimi over the top of the couch onto Roger's lap. She sprawled there, her arms and legs thrown out dramatically. Using Roger's shoulder, she pulled herself up and fluttered her eyelids at him. Angel let out a whoop, and Roger was just about to lean in and kiss her when Mark's voice rang out from behind the table. He was standing on a chair, grinning.

"Hey Collins, do you like this one better? 'COLLINS AND ANGEL, LYIN' ON A COUCH, M-A-K-I-N-G OUT—OW!" Collins had already taken a step towards Mark, but Angel had gotten there first. Leaping to her feet and taking superb aim, Angel lobbed her sequined, hand-sewn, fake-diamond-clasp coin purse at Mark's head. It struck him squarely on the forehead, pitching him backwards. Mark's arms waved crazily in the air for a moment, and then, in slow motion, they saw him fall back, plummeting towards the floor.

"Whoa, whoa, whooOAAA—" THUD.

"Mark!" Angel shouted, side-stepping Mimi and rushing towards where he had fallen. All the others were close on her high heels.

Mark was sprawled on the ground, his arms and legs flung out to the sides. His glasses had been knocked almost clear off his face: they dangled from one ear. Angel stood over him, one hand pressed to his lipstick-covered mouth. "Oh my God…I killed him." Everyone else clustered around Mark's body, actually worried now, laughter gone from their faces.

Collins came up behind Angel and put a hand on her shoulder. She stood there a second, then dropped onto one knee by Mark's head. She gently took one of his hands in her own. "Mark? Mark, are you okay? Can you speak?"

"I…I…" A faint sound came from Mark's lips. Everyone bent closer, trying to make out some word, any word.

"What is it, honey? You what?" Angel squeezed his hand.

"I…I…I guess I deserved that..." A small smile spread across Mark's face and he started to sit up. Angel looked shocked for a second, then burst into laughter. Everyone else did too. Angel pulled Mark's hand and helped him up, heaving him to his feet. She reached across and righted his glasses, settling them onto his face. He shrugged ruefully and grinned.

"Hey Angel, where'd you learn to throw like that?" Roger asked, his arms around Mimi.

"Boy, when you and some little Barbie Doll in last year's boots see the same gorgeous boa on sale and she's closer to it than you are, you've gotta have some way of slowing her down!" Everyone laughed again, and Mark put a friendly hand on Angel's shoulder.

"Seriously, sorry about the 'k-i-s-s-i-n-g' thing, though. I didn't mean to—"

"Sorry? What do you mean, sorry? I wasn't saying calling you a liar when I threw that purse at your head." And to illustrate her point, Angel spun around to face Collins, grabbed the lapels of his coat, and kissed him fiercely on the mouth.

Everyone erupted with whoops, cheers, and laughter. As if taking his cue from Collins, Roger gently put his hands of Mimi's face and kissed her. She put her arms around his neck and clung to him. Maureen and Joanne, not wanting to be left out, meshed into a lip lock.

Mark looked around. In five seconds flat, he had gone from being in a crowd of laughing friends to being the only person in the room not glued to somebody else's lips. He sighed and walked over to the couch, where he sat and stared at the three slowly shifting pillars that were the couples. Tapping his fingers on the armrest, Mark began to count in his mind how long the lovers had been kissing.

He reached almost thirty seconds before the first couple, Mimi and Roger, surfaced for air. Mark opened his mouth to say something, but they had already gravitated back towards each other. He sighed again and glanced towards the radio sitting on the table. On a whim, he got up and turned it on, changing the station almost immediately to a soft, musical one. Slow, soothing music wafted into the air, and all three couples began to sway back and forth. Maureen and Joanne broke apart for a moment, then, smiling, went right back in. Mark gazed at Angel and Collins, impressed. Those two really knew how to kiss. It had been almost a minute. But then, they had probably had plenty of practice.

Mark glanced around and spotted his camera sitting on the ground near him. Leaning over, he carefully lifted the precious mass of wires and lenses and plastic and started to tinker with it again. And there it was. Three couples who were making out and slow-dancing simultaneously and a solitary man, playing around with his camera. Pleasing, heart-warming, and slightly creepy.


End file.
